


Who Needs An Invitation?

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-25
Updated: 2006-02-25
Packaged: 2018-08-15 17:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8066698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: A costume party. (08/02/2002)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: This fic is for Kalita, for her Birthday. This is not beta'd, I couldn't ask my beta to look over her own present!  


* * *

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed stepped out of the small bathroom in his quarters and looked at Ensign Hoshi Sato in disbelief. "I look bloody ridiculous," He looked down at his outfit and back at Hoshi, "I'm not going."

"Yes you are, and you don't look ridiculous. You look-sinful." Hoshi replied and held up the hem of her costume. "At least you're not dressed as Tinker Bell." The green of her skirt shimmered as she let it fall back into place. " I didn't realize this skirt would be so short."

Hoshi took Malcolm's hand in her own, "At this point it's too late to back out, and we're already late."

"I know Hoshi," Malcolm said and gave his pants a sharp tug in the rear. "I just wish whoever chose my outfit had ordered the pants a little larger." He gave the pants another tug and sighed, " I thought leather would give a bit more."

The idea for a party had come up a few weeks ago, over breakfast in the mess hall. Hoshi had joined Travis for breakfast, and as they talked Malcolm joined, then Trip.

After the disappointing shore leave on Risa, most of them felt the need for a party of some kind, someway to relax and get to know each other better. Hoshi innocently suggested a gathering, an afternoon get together. It had been Travis who took the ball and went running and after twenty minutes of heated, and loud conversation, a costume party was decided on. It was Trip who suggested that they pick each other's costumes, and at the end they would reveal themselves and why the costume had been picked.

Hoshi had brought the party to Captain Archer who thought it was a great idea and gave her free reign to make it happen. It had taken two weeks to get the party ready, during which she had flown from one end of Enterprise to the other, gathering all the things they would need. What surprised her the most was how many people liked the idea of picking someone else's costume.

The quartermaster agreed to make the outfits, provided his staff was given sizes, and none of the costumes were too time consuming to make. Hoshi had each person write his or her size, along with his or her comfort level. She didn't want someone who was self-conscious ending up dressed as lady Godiva.

So here she stood, almost three weeks to the day dressed as Tinker Bell, her skirt just within range of too short, and trying hard not too stare at Malcolms butt in tight leather pants.

Whoever had chosen Malcolm had decided to dress him as Tonto, from the old television show The Lone Ranger. She had a sneaking suspicion the person had ordered the pants too small, they looked painted on, molded to every curve of Malcolm's body.

"Have you looked your fill yet?" Malcolm asked drawing Hoshi out of her increasingly naughty thoughts. He tugged on the matching leather shirt, setting the fringe on the arms and chest swinging. He did admit to himself the feel of being covering in buttery soft leather was sinful and he was grateful the shirt fell to his hips. If it were much shorter everyone would see what his stature was.

Hoshi felt the blush rise to her cheeks and let go of Malcolm's hand. "I-yes. I'm sorry Malcolm." She turned to the door. "Lets go, we're late as it is."

With a final tug to the offending garment, Malcolm joined Hoshi. They left his quarters and headed to the mess hall.

Trip grinned at this reflection and held one of the prop guns up to the mirror. He blew at the end of the gun, and slid it quickly back into the leather holster slung low on his hips. "If being sexy was a crime," he told his reflection, "You'd be put away for life." He adjusted the mask that covered the top part of his face, and straightened the red bandana tied around his neck. He picked up the hat that was sitting on the small sink and placed it at an angle on his head. "Yep, a lifetime sentence."

Whoever had picked his outfit had decided he would be The Lone Ranger, complete with the guns and holster. The costume was made of soft denim, the jeans fitting him like a second skin, flaring out near his calves to cover his own cowboy boots. The shirt looked like something a buccaneer would have worm, loose dressy sleeves, with a rawhide thong that laced up the front of the shirt. The holster was made to fit low on his hips and the weight of the pistol was comfortable on his leg.

Trip smiled in anticipation as his door chimed. He and the Captain had decided to go together, safety in numbers was his thought. He Walked to the door and pushed the control to make it open.

He stared at his long time friend and Captain. "Robin Hood?" He asked and stepped out into the corridor.

Jon immediately started walking and Trip had to rush to match his pace. He caught Jon by the arm and didn't let go until Jon stopped walking. "What's wrong Jon? Your costume looks good."

"If you plan to stare at my ass all night, sure. I feel like all I'm wearing is underwear." Jon said and adjusted the quiver of arrows to a more comfortable position. He set the end of the bow on the floor of the corridor and looked at Trip. "Go ahead, I know you want to laugh, I look like an ass. I don't know why I agreed to this."

Trip did his best not to laugh and said, "Well, if anyone gives you trouble you can let use you bow and arrows to shut 'em up." He looked closely at Jon's costume. A long forest green tunic ended just past Jon's thighs. Dark brown hose covered Jon's legs, leaving less to the imagination than his own pants. A thick leather belt was fastened at Jon's waist; a small dagger was set into a sheath, tied onto the belt. "Or you could stab 'em with the dagger when no one was looking." He gave up then and began laughing, stopping when he felt the blade pressed against his neck.

"Don't temp me Trip." Jon said with a smile and put the dagger back in the sheath. "I'm sure I'm not the only person feeling like an idiot, I doubt you like your costume any better than mine."

"Nope," Trip replied and held his shirt away from his chest, "I'm too sexy for my shirt. I like it just fine"

Jon shook his head and began walking. "Sometimes Trip, you are too full of yourself." He smiled to take the sting out of his words and slung his bow over his shoulder.

Walking into the mess hall was like walking into a dream; to Malcolms left a pair of Klingons discussed the transporter functions with a large rabbit in top hat and tails. In the corner, a geisha girl leaned over an Andorian male, and waved her fan in front of her face as she laughed. He led Hoshi to the fresher and ordered them both drinks, a Mai Tai for Hoshi and for himself, two fingers of scotch. He downed his drink in seconds and set his glass down on the counter.

Malcolm was looking for familiar faces when a flash of red caught his eyes. He held tight to Hoshi's hand and pulled her along, rushing to follow the figure in red. If he wasn't mistaken it was T'Pol they were following, dressed as an—elf.

They caught up with T'Pol and greeted her, Hoshi's giggles under control.

"Sub Commander," Malcolm said, "You look—"

T'Pol cut him off, "Do not say it Commander, I will not deliver any messages to your Christmas deity."

"Cute." Malcolm finished, and squeezed Hoshi's hand.

"Almost cheerful." Hoshi added. She had to fight the giggles that once again threatened to break loose. T'Pol was dressed in a knee length dress, the skirt and the long sleeves trimmed with synthetic white fur. A matching hat sat at an angle on her head, the bell on the end of the hat jingling softly as she moved. Maybe it would be better if T'Pol didn't find out who had chosen her costume. She turned to the door and tugged on Malcolm's hand. "Look who just walked in."

Malcolm looked to the door and his mouth went dry at the sight that greeted his eyes. Trip stood in the entrance of the mess hall, looking impossibly sexy and dangerous. The person who chose Trip's costume deserved a kiss, Malcolm thought as he watched Trip and the captain talk. No, Malcolm corrected, as Trip turned around, the person deserved a promotion.

Hoshi spoke, breaking into Malcolm's thoughts, "Excuse us Sub Commander." T'Pol nodded and Hoshi pulled Malcolm along beside her. "No man should look that good with a mask on." Hoshi said as they walked back the way they came.

"Indeed." Malcolm replied and again was thankful for the length of his shirt. Hoshi was the one person he had told of his liking for Trip Tucker, and she had taken it stride, and admitted that she found Trip attractive also. That had been the glue for a fast friendship and he and Hoshi regularly met to bemoan the fates that brought them to this point.

As they approached the twosome something fell from Jon's belt and Trip bent over to retrieve the item, his behind facing them. The fabric of his jeans molded to his body, outlining his form.

"I think I may expire on the spot." Malcolm whispered in Hoshi's ear.

"We'll both be dead then." Hoshi whispered back.

Malcolm laughed and focused his gaze on Trips lovely bum, he wished it were his body covering Trip so intimately, caressing every centimeter of skin.

"Malcolm," Hoshi whispered, "The Captain just said hello!" She tugged hard on Malcolm's hand.

Malcolm looked up the see a bemused smile on Jon's face. Great bloody hell, he had been caught. It was Trips fault for wearing those indecently tight pants. Well, Malcolm thought. I best brazen through. "Captain." Malcolm said stiffly, embarrassed that he had been caught staring at Trip. "How did the Commander get those pants on?" Did he really just ask that, Dear God he was slipping.

Jon leaned in and pitched his voice to Malcolms ears, "You could try peeling them off." He winked and laid a hand on Malcolms shoulder. " I don't think Trip would object."

As Jon turned to leave Trip stood up. "Jon, you lost your dagger." He held the knife out to Jon, "You may need it." He laughed and noticed Hoshi and Malcolm. He looked first at Hoshi, "Whoever chose your costume, picked it perfectly Hoshi. You sprinkle your magic dust and we can understand all sorts of languages."

He turned his gazed to Malcolm and after a moment laughed. Just as Malcolm began to get offended he spoke, "I wonder if the people who chose us got together to discuss costumes." At Malcolms blank look he continued. "You ever watch The lone Ranger?"

Malcolm shook his head and waited for Trip to continue.

"The Lone ranger was a television show in the 1950's, it's a good guy versus bad guy western show. Anyway, I'm dressed as the Lone Ranger and you are dressed as my side kick Tonto."

Hoshi watched the heat flare in Malcolm's eyes and decided Malcolm needed Trip more than she did. "I guess that means you two need to stick together tonight."

Malcolm saw his opportunity to stay with Trip and jumped at it. "A hero is never without his sidekick." He said rather stiffly,he knew there would never be more than friendship between them, but that didn't stop him from dreaming.

Hoshi looked at Jon and tapped his arm with her wand. "Captain, would you like to go get a drink?"

Jon nodded and placed Hoshi's hand upon his arm. "I would love too." As they walked away he leaned down and whispered in Hoshi's ear, "If those two ever figure out they're beating around the same bush, we'll all be in trouble."

Hoshi stared at Jon, "You know Malcolm is head over for Trip, I thought I was the only one!" He chuckled, "It's hard not to notice my chief engineer moon over my armoury officer when he thinks no one is watching."

"Well, asked Trip, "What say we go get a drink?" He watched Malcolm and felt a familiar jolt of longing as Malcolm gave him a lopsided smile.

"I suppose so, we can't get dehydrated before everyone arrives." He looked over to the fresher, "what do you want to drink?"

"Something that sounds like a cowboy-ish." Trip said.

"Oh that should be easy," Malcolm said sarcastically, "We have so many cowboys in England."

Trip laughed at Malcolm's tone, "Just get me whatever your drinking." He paused, "Kemo Sabe."

"Kemo Sabe?" Malcolm asked and watched the pulse throb at Trips neck, and thought about nipping the area with his teeth, then licking the sting away and kissing the smooth skin until Trip cried out Malcolms name.

"It's what the lone ranger sometimes called Tonto." And sometimes, Trip added to himself, I'd like to call you mine Malcolm.

"Ah I see," Malcolm said and nodded. "I'll be right back." He made his way over to the fresher.

Trip leaned back against the wall and watched Malcolm walk away, the tight leather on Malcolm's ass leaving nothing to the imagination. His mouth watered at the thought of the peeling the tight leather off Malcolm's ass and sheathing himself inside the tight body.

Within moments Malcolm was back by his side, holding a glass out for him, " You look hot Trip, do you need some fresh air?"

Trip was about to deny being hot, then his nasty mind thought better. "Yeah, I am hot, care to take a break? Walk around the ship for a little bit." He took the glass from Malcolm and downed the contents.

Malcolm nodded, "Sounds like a good idea, I'm feeling a little self conscious in this outfit. I think everyone is staring at my bum." He swallowed his drink and felt the pleasant burn of the alcohol in his stomach.

"Only me," Trip said, his voice too low for Malcolm to hear.

Malcolm looked at Trip with narrowed eyes; he could swear Trip just said "only me". "Well, Lone Ranger, lets take our walk, maybe we'll find a damsel in distress."

"Let's get another drink for the road first." He turned to Malcolm, "It's my turn, so I'll go get the drinks. Meet me at my quarters, I want to change into something a little less—-revealing."

"Pity" Malcolm said and cursed himself. "I mean pity-it's not important." He finished lamely.

Malcolm stood outside Trip's quarters waiting for him to arrive. He leaned against the doorframe, his balance none to steady. He rarely indulged in spirits and he hadn't had dinner, so the alcohol had gone straight to his head.

He heard Trip's approach before he saw him, Trip was whistling the William Tell Overture, loudly and off key.

With a smile on his face Trip stopped at his door and leaned over Malcolm. "Well hello Kemo Sabe, Lets get me out of this outfit, I'm starting to fear for the future Trip Tuckers." He opened his door and ushered Malcolm in.

Malcolm stepped in to Trip's room and felt air on his back as the door shut behind him, then Trip's hand on his back pushing him forward. Malcolm jumped as Trip's fingers brushed against his bum.

Trip was suddenly in front of Malcolm, invading his senses. Malcolm closed his eyes and prayed for strength to survive.

"Come on Kemo Sabe," Trip said and put his hand in the waistband of Malcolms pants. "I need help getting out of this costume." He pulled Malcolm into the center of the room. "Can you pull the shirt off over my head? It took me twenty minutes to wriggle into it and I'd like to get it off a little quicker. He turned around and faced away from Malcolm, "Maybe if you grab the hem and pull." Trip suggested.

Malcolm swallowed hard and smiled weakly. "Umm, Sure. I'll try." He took hold of the shirt and began to push it up Trip's back. Malcolm's blood speed through his body, doubling his heart rate, bringing a flush to his skin, making him hard in an instant. He managed to get the shirt up as far as the middle of Trips back, and then it wouldn't budge.

"Problem Malcolm?" Trip asked, working hard to control the tremors in his voice.

"I can't get the shirt to go up any further." Malcolm replied and let his hands drop.

"Maybe if I was kneeling, you would have the advantage of height to get it off." Trip dropped his knees, "In fact," He whispered, his voice husky. "It would work better if I was facing you."

Malcolm stared in near panic as Trip turned around. Trip's face was going to end up right in his crotch. He quickly stepped back, only to have Trip's arms reach around his knees and pull him back.

Trip leaned his head against Malcolms hip, and brought one hand up to rub the bulge in Malcolms pants. His voice was soft, seductive, "It looks like we're going to have to take care of this before you can get out of your costume." Trip wrapped his fingers around Malcolms cock, "Does you skin feel as soft as this leather Malcolm?"

Trip's breath was hot, searing Malcolm's skin through the leather. His knees were weak, his mouth dry. He tried to say Trip's name but his voice deserted him as he felt Trip's hand on the waistband of his pant's, slowly pulling down the zipper.

Trip pushed the leather aside and ran his tongue along the length of Malcolm's cock, his hands pulling on the waistband, tugging the leather down Malcolms hips. After torturous minutes Malcolms cock sprang free and Trip wrapped one hand around it. He kissed the tip and rubbed his lips around the head. He pulled back and looked at Malcolm. "You're softer Malcolm, much softer." He took one of Malcolm's hands in his own. "Feel yourself, God, you're so soft."

Malcolm breath rushed out and he let Trip guide his hand. He did feel soft, softer then the leather and hot, throbbing like the engines. Malcolm moaned aloud when trips fingers wrapped around his own. He let Trip set the pace, let Trip control his pleasure. Within moments he felt his muscles tighten and his body fell into space, his consciousness flying out into the universe.

Malcolm slowly opened his eyes, his heart accepting the warm body he was curled against. Trip's eyes caught his own and Malcolm watched him smile, a content, sweet, sexy smile. My Trip, he thought, all mine. Whoever had chosen their costumes was going to get a promotion. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, a smile on his face.


End file.
